As I contemplated what I’d blog about this Monday morning, I kept teetering between informative post, or personal post? Since I shared some big/hard news with you a couple of weeks ago, I decided to get personal with you and share an update.
I’m calling this post “Life Since Cancer” because, as I shared in my last post, things have been different since the news of my mom having cancer. There have been more tears, more heartache, and more feelings of disappointment than usual (when it rains it pours, kind of thing).
But, there has also been more family time, more love, more communication, more feelings, more hugs, more prayer, and more intention. There has been more gratitude, more joy in the little moments, more video, and more kisses.
Since cancer, I’ve found myself capturing the littlest moments. The ones I wouldn’t usually think to capture. Mom and dad kissing, mom singing to her grand baby, Marco walking into the ocean to surf, when it’s just me and him. Our family walks at the beach.
I’ve also learned that things are replaceable, people are not. So, love on your people, and don’t worry so much about stuff. Like I heard a couple of weeks ago, you never see a hurst pulling a U-Haul.
For example, my car got slammed by a drunk driver this weekend (it was parked, I was not in it – thank you Lord!). Although it totally sucks, our current thinking is: “It’s a car, it’s replaceable, and it’ll get figured out.” Not something worth worrying over.
I’ve also learned how to keep going when life gets tough. If anyone has ever gone through this, or something like it, you KNOW the feeling I talk about when I say it feels like you shouldn’t be doing anything else. How can you?
It feels like all you can do is grieve the news of something so hard. But, I’m learning that this isn’t true. There’s time/room for both: grieving, feeling, supporting, AND working, being a friend/wife/cousin, and simply living. Life doesn’t stop, even though it feels like it might.
Since cancer, I’ve learned to put my life into little boxes. There’s time for it all: time to cry, time to grieve (sometimes hitting me by surprise), time to work (and space to continue to ENJOY my work big time), time to be a wife, and time to take care of myself.
I give myself time to be a friend, to laugh, to have a light heart, to keep dreaming big about desires. Time to read, time to get excited for my friends about wonderful things going on in their lives. I keep going. It helps to keep going.
Today, my sweet mama starts chemo and the way I’m compartmentalizing my life is like this:
I set my clothes out last night to wake up early, before anyone else, and get my work done (this post included). After that, I’ll get dressed, have breakfast, and take my mom to the cancer center, where I’ll be with her the entire day. This first day is going to be a long one. We’ll sit together for six hours as she gets the treatment. I’ll be able to take my computer, and do little spurts of work throughout. Tonight, we’ll have girls time and watch The Bachelor, because nothing takes your mind of the hard stuff like some good ol’ TV drama (we’re so very obsessed with this season – anyone else?!).
Life keeps going.
For those who are asking, the doctors have still not yet verified where my moms cancer started. As far as today, what we *believe* she is dealing with is stage 4 intrahepatic cholangiocarcinoma, which is cancer that starts in a bile duct in the liver.
It has also spread to her spine and her iliac crest, which was the hardest news we’ve heard so far. Surgery cannot be done, because the tumor in her liver is too large to operate on, plus it’s spread to her bones, so chemo is their (the doctors) only answer.
One day at a time.
So, that’s where we’re at. If you pray, keep praying for a miracle. Pray for our family, that we’ll be able to support my mom and show her love the best we can. Pray for my mom that she’d stay strong in her faith, nurture all of her feelings, and keep laughing.
Thank you for caring so much that you’d take the time to be with me through this entire post. I am so thankful you’re on this journey with us. We definitely know we are not alone, and life will continue. We’re not taking any of our moments for granted.